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Coriander Lee May 2018
Didn't realize she was missing,
Hadn't noticed she was gone,
'till I looked down at my hands and realized how long
It had been,
Since I picked up a pen.

Her whispers, like secrets,
Always finding my ears,
Her light in my eyes,
Her soul in my tears.

Now dashed away, silent,
Mind as blank as the page,
Afraid this is the end,
Last call,
Leave the stage.

No. I refuse.
As long as I speak,
I will find words to use.
I will be my muse.
And just like that, this is the first poem I've written in two years.
Coriander Lee Jun 2015
Glare at the blank page,
Splatter it with black
the oil that oozes up
from deep inside me.

Shape it to a likeness
Give it a collar, a chain
But I prefer not to name it.

I'm good at keeping the door cracked.
I keep the key around my neck,
In case I need to shut them in,

Or shut myself in?

I'm not sure which side of the door
is the inside.
They bang on rough wood.
Scrape with sharp nails.
I haven't named them.
If only they didn't know mine.
I haven't written in so long. I found it easier to rewrite a rough draft instead of starting from scratch.
Coriander Lee Oct 2013
I saved for all my life,
Every dime,
Every penny.

I kept it in jars,
And counted it
Before I went to sleep.

I saved all my life,
Before spending every coin
On you.

I dropped them
Down the wishing well,

And I wished on every star,
And every tear,

But tears
Are just salt water,

And coins are just metal,
I throw away down a well,

And I'm too late,
Cause those stars are far away,
And already dead.
Just scribbled it up. I think I like it. Haven't written something like this in a while.
Coriander Lee Oct 2013
The worst part
Is I have no words for this.

My collection of witty phrases
is empty.

This isn't artistic pain
it's just depression.
Coriander Lee Sep 2013
Maybe if we threw time out the window,
and it sprout wings and flew away,
Maybe I wouldn't be so tired,

and if seconds where just a rhythm,
and minutes where just for paint to dry,
maybe I wouldn't be restless,

Maybe we could just watch the sun rise,
and wake up when we are no longer tired,
and say goodbye when we want to leave,
maybe we wouldn't fade.
I don't even know right now
Coriander Lee Sep 2013
The first word is the hardest
To fill the page of snow
Small marks like fox tracks
along the blank page
telling a story of
cold whispers,
flakes of ice.
Coriander Lee Sep 2013
I walk through life with an anxious mind,
And the burden of remembering to breath.
My family says I have many abilities
But I think I'm best at the one where I fold in on myself
And disappear.

I am the quiet girl in the back of the class,
Who occupies her time with stories and fictional friends.
And I may feel inferior in the department of drama and boyfriends,
But I hold my head high in the ways that I can read a book in a day,
and have acquired a far bigger vocabulary than your twitter feed has ever called for.

I walk through life with an anxious mind and the heavy heart of being accepted.
My ears are full of the whispers, constantly reminding me,
Don't cross your arms,
be open,
don't say weird things,
just don't talk,
but don't be dull.

My head is so full of fear, My mind is so tired.
I think,
Maybe I'll just stay home and read today.
This was written quite fast, so I may go back and edit it sometime.
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